


A New Adventure

by lyrawinter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Prompt: Unknown Symbol, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, agweek2020, lighthearted fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: “Hi, sweetling.” His gray-green eyes shone mischievously, and his famous smirk showed on his face.“No.” Sansa made as if to close the door again, though she didn’t make a good job of hiding her smile.
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	A New Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago, I come up with this idea, inspired by the scene from _The Hobbit_ where Galdalf asks Bilbo if he'd be interested in going on an adventure. This is so ridiculous, but I loved writing it and since several Petyr/Sansa shippers seem to enjoy fuflly stories, I thought I'd share it :-)
> 
> English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading!

Sansa finally had a moment to relax.

Sansa had spent the morning in the village, visiting some clients and buying some fabrics and threads. It was only a 10-minute horse ride from her home, but she spent so much time packing the dresses, blouses and skirts so they didn’t wrinkle.

Sansa was a dressmaker, a very good one. Women from all over Westeros came to the village to hire her services. They contact her through the pastry shop (Jeyne, her best friend, was the owner). This way, Sansa had managed to prevent people from climbing up the hill to her cottage and knocking at her door at random hours.

Well, save for one person, but according to his last letter, which she'd received last month, he was busy with work several miles away. He worked as a professor of Archaeology and Classical Studies at the King’s Landing University. 

Though now, June was almost over, which meant summer holidays.

Which meant, he would be terribly bored.

Which meant, he would be eager for adventure.

Which meant, he could show up at her door any time now.

Well, he wasn’t here yet, Sansa told herself. She’d just taken a relaxing bath with lavender oil and chamomile leaves, and now she was going to make tea, and she would also eat a slice of the butter sponge cake she made yesterday. 

She smiled when the sweet scent of pineapple coconut rooibos tea filled the room. She sat in her favorite armchair and grabbed the book she’d bought last weekend but she hadn’t started yet. _Howl’s Moving Castle_ by Diana Wynne Jones. 

She read the beginning:

_“In the land of Ingary where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of the three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes.”_

Three knocks at her door interrupted her.

No. It couldn’t be possible.

She closed the book and set it on the side table beside the cup of tea and the plate of sponge cake. She hadn’t taken a bite yet.

She walked over to the door and opened it.

Yes, it was him.

And he carried his special backpack, the one with that strange symbol that looked like a bird (Petyr had told her that it symbolized creativity and nature). He only carried his special backpack when he was in search of adventures.

“Hi, sweetling.” His gray-green eyes shone mischievously, and his famous smirk showed on his face.

“No.” Sansa made as if to close the door again, though she didn’t make a good job of hiding her smile.

He quickly placed his hands on the door and also put his left foot inside, between the door and the jamb. Thankfully Sansa hadn’t meant to push the door or else he would have screamed in pain.

He’d been certain that she wouldn’t.

This wasn’t the first time Sansa “threatened” to slam the door in his face. It has become like a private joke between them. When he didn’t carry his special backpack, Sansa would greet him with a grin and let him in. Then, he would ask her how she was doing and would tell her he’d bought lemon cakes in the village. He knew it was her favorite dessert. They’d have tea and they’d spent some time catching up with each other (though truth to be told, they really kept the other updated through their letters).

However, when he carried his special backpack, Sansa knew he was up to no good.

“Come on, sweetling, let me in,” he pleaded.

This was also part of their little game.

Sansa pretended to be weighing her options. 

“Hmm… Only if you throw away that,” she pointed at his backpack. “And go to the village to buy lemon cakes for me.”

He chuckled.

“Never,” he said and unzipped his backpack. He pulled out a map that looked very old. “There’s a really promising adventure waiting for us!”

Sansa sighed, though secretly, she was excited to know more. His words piqued her curiosity every time, and he knew. She stepped aside and Petyr crossed the threshold, a smug grin on his face. Victorious.

“Have you heard of Daenerys’ dragons?” he asked when Sansa closed the door. When he came here to persuade him to go on an adventure with him, there was never time for small talk.

Daenerys was the queen of Dragonstone. Over the past few years, there had been rumors that she owned three dragons, but neither she nor her closest friends or royal guard had confirmed this information. 

Sansa’s eyes widened.

“Is it true?” she asked him. “Does she own three dragons?”

“Yes, and one of them has fled. The Queen has offered a fortune for her lost dragon. Viserion, that’s his name”

“Don’t tell me you want us to find him. Of all the adventures you’d suggested this is by far the most absurd, dangerous and ridiculous!”

“Absurd and ridiculous are synonyms, sweetling.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes.

“My answer is no,” she said.

“What? Why?”

Sansa huffed.

“Do you know what a dragon looks like? Do you know they breathe fire, right? How do you plan to catch him? With a butterfly net?”

Petyr chuckled.

“I love your sense of humor. But no, the Queen knows that catching him is almost an impossible task. She just wants people to find him and send a letter with his location. It will be a child’s play.” He approached her and tugged at her sleeve lightly. “Come on, it’s summer.”

“Yes, it’s summer. The perfect time to take a bath in the lake and read a book under a tree, and have a picnic in the park.”

“And to find a dragon and become immensely rich,” Petyr replied.

“You don’t need the money,” she told him. He made a good living as a professor.

“Touché.” His soft laughter filled the room, and he looked at her with a wicked expression, one he knew she couldn’t resist. “Come on. I know you want to. I can see your smile.”

Sansa hurried to press her lips together. He went on:

“I know you miss going on an adventure with me. It’s been almost a year since the last time.” His eyebrows rose and fell in a comical manner. 

_Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh._

“Yes, and those witches almost turned us into toads,” she managed to say. Her lips trembled dangerously. She knew it was a matter of time before she surrendered. 

“It wouldn’t have been too bad, so long as we got to spend the rest of our lives as toads together. We would have found a lovely pond, sweetling. I’m certain.”

Her lips trembled once more upon his ridiculous comment, but this time, Sansa couldn’t keep a serious face any longer. She bursted into laughter. Petyr took this opportunity to tug at her sleeve, and she stumbled. His arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her, and she placed her hands on his chest, still laughing. 

“Okay,” she said. 

Petyr was right: she missed going on an adventure with him, but above all, she’d missed _him_.


End file.
